Seven of Swords
by Magpie quill
Summary: AU. Harry Potter has two lives: 1. the boy who lived and 2. Doitvite the juggler. He thought that he could keep them apart but when it turns out that he's the mate of a Veela, problems arise. Ignores HBP. slash, non-con mentioned, child abuse.
1. Prolouge

**Title: Seven of Swords  
Author: Magpie quill  
Summary: AU. Harry Potter has two lives: 1. The boy who lived and 2. Doitvite, the juggler. He thought that he could keep them apart but when it turns out that he's the mate of a Veela, problems arise. Ignores HBP. slash DMHP, child abuse.  
Disclaimer: Many characters and places seen here are the property of J. K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Everything that you do not recognize from the Harry Potter books and movies is mine.  
Warnings: AU, OC, DM/HP, slash, child abuse, complex characters, mild drug/alcohol abuse, Dumbledore bashing**

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There are many days that could be the beginning of this story. It could have been all hallows eve 1981 when a boy who would not even remember what he did defeated the greatest dark lord who ever fell. Or the story could have begun the next day when the child's godfather was sent away for murder and the savior given to his aunt and uncle. The story may have begun when the little boy was three and was hit for the first time by the man charged to protect the child: His Uncle Vernon. As it is though the story starts in a warm summers evening five years after little Harry Potter was dropped off at number four Privet Drive.

"Out! Out! OUT!" yelled Petunia Dursley "How dare you! That was a wedding gift and you have the nerve to break it and then try and blame my baby? Out! Just wait till I tell Vernon!

"I'm sorry!" sobbed the little boy. But what exactly he was sorry for was lost forever by the slam of the door.

Cradling his bruised arm, Harry slowly made his way to the back of the garden. With ease born of long practice he slipped behind the shed, knocked on the back fence and then sat down to wait. Desperate to get his mind to think of something besides the pain, Harry examined his little hidey-hole.

To anyone else this scrap of land would appear to be nothing important. Only about ninety centimeters wide, there was barely room to maneuver comfortably. Except in one place, the fence was lined in inexpertly planted herbs. Most were bruised and slightly worse for wear but they were alive. Where the shed met the back wall was a large box and several broken flowerpots covered with a tarp to keep most of the water off. This too had a slightly worn down air to it. If one looked closely though, they could see signs of care and time spent here: On the wall of the shed there were faded chalk pictures; in the grass a loose marble or beat up plastic solider was poking out; And the wilting plants had been carefully tied to thin sticks on the hopes they would revive. For Harry, this place was home.

"Harry! Came as soon as I could. I would have gotten away sooner but my old man was being a bit nasty." The voice came from a girl currently crawling through a gap in the fence. Dusting herself off, Harry got a good look at his friend.

Pamela "call me pixie or else" Coleman was nine to his six it was no surprise that she was a fair deal taller then himself. Her wild hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail that seemed to be on the verge of coming undone at the base of her neck. If it had been loose, her face would have been framed by wild and unimaginably curly dark brown hair. As for her face itself, well it was hard to notice anything besides the large colorful bruise that set off oh so well her amber colored left eye. Noticing that her friend was staring, the girl self-consciously touched the puffy area.

"Its nothing. Like I said, da' was getting testy."

"It looks like something to me." Was the only response she got.

"Yeah well, your arm is what really looks like something. That's gotta hurt a fair bit." Pixie said, critically taking in the swollen wrist and bruising up his arm. Before he could say anything she had plopped down in front of him and started to examine it more closely. Wincing slightly Harry put up with it. Pixie had been around for longer, suffered more injuries, and was better at diagnosing what they were and how to fix them.

Finally she looked up.

"Bad news, you sprained the wrist." Came the diagnosis. For a second the little boy didn't say anything, and then he sighed.

"Can you fix it?" Harry asked nervously. Sprains weren't good. A sprained wrist meant that it was harder to do his chores, which meant getting into more trouble with Uncle Vernon

"I think so, let me check" Pixie replied as she made her way over to the tarp-covered pile in the corner.

Carefully she dragged out a small chest and slipped open the lid. Looking through it she pulled out a couple things and brought them over. Looking over the items Harry mentally ticked them off: A bottle of aspirin stolen from Aunt petunia, a roll of medical tape relived from Pixie's dads care along with some bandages, and a jam jar filled with a salve they had made themselves from the plants they grew. Looking closer at the jar, Harry gave a start. They were almost out. With their families, Pixie and Harry ended up getting hurt a lot. Since they "weren't worth medical treatment" they had to do it all themselves. Their solution: Herbal remedies. Being almost out of the bruise, lotion as they called it, was a problem. It was hard to get the ingredients needed to make more, and hard to find a time and place to make it. Before Harry could protest using it though, Pixie cut him off.

"Your hurt you use the lotion. We'll make more later if we have too." And without giving him time to argue she started fixing him up.

Ten minutes later Harry's wrist was neatly bandaged and smelling slightly of bay and marigold. With the hard stuff over they began being kids. An old ratty deck of cards appeared as well as a few pieces of candy and the two of them settled down to discuss the newest strange occurrence around Harry, what they wish would happen to Dudley, and what school would be like for Harry when he started in the fall. They were just getting started on a particularly vicious game of spit when they heard the sound of a car pulling into number four. A moment later and the two children were gone; back to the horror show they called their life.

**A/N: I'm expecting this story to be long. This means that their will be at least two, possible more, chapters before there is any mention of Veela. Now on to the more important buissness. I love to hear what you have to say. Please Review!  
**


	2. Chapter 1: Betwen Worlds

**Title: Seven of Swords  
Author: Magpie quill  
Summary: AU. Harry Potter has two lives: 1. The boy who lived and 2. Doitvite, the juggler. He thought that he could keep them apart but when it turns out that he's the mate of a Veela, problems arise. Ignores HBP. slash DMHP, child abuse.  
Disclaimer: Many characters and places seen here are the property of J. K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Everything that you do not recognize from the Harry Potter books and movies is mine.  
Warnings: AU, OC, DM/HP, slash, child abuse, complex characters, mild drug/alcohol abuse, Dumbledore bashing**

Car rides sucked Harry decided; especially the one that was taking him back to Kings Cross at the end of a miserable summer. He supposed that only one part of the summer was truly terrible, but that one part was…. Well he didn't want to think about it now. Better to concentrate on the car ride at hand.

It wasn't that he disliked returning to Hogwarts, far from it. It was that the whole ride was filled with awkward silence. Pixie refused to talk to him because she thought he should stay with her since every time he went back something terrible happened (The death of Sirius top on that list) and he wouldn't talk to Pixie for fear of his head getting bitten off.

When he thought about it, Harry was always amazed about how much had changed in such a short amount of time. Before he got his letter the only thing that mattered was living to the next day. If any thoughts were spared for the future it was for planning how to get out of privet drive. Now though, it was a constant balancing act. Between the Dursleys, Pixie, Voldemort, and his friends at Hogwarts he always felt that he was about to fall off the tightrope that was his life. He could still remember the exact moment that life had gotten complicated.

_Flashback_

_"You what?" Harry asked again in disbelief._

_"I ran away from Privet drive and got a job as a bartender at a pub in London." Came the patient reply._

_"And explain to me again the part where you deal everyday with thieves and murders and they all know about magic, magic which mind is completely different from wizardry, even though more then three quarters of them are muggle."_

_Pixie let out an exasperated huff. Then leaned across the table they were sitting at to explain once again what had happened while Harry was attending year one at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_"I ran away from home after my dad broke my arm one too many times. I took all the money in his savings account and went to find that Diagon Alley place you were telling me about because I figured that no one could find me there. I didn't find the leaky cauldron but I did manage to stumble across a half hidden neighborhood called the Slums-"_

_"Right," Harry interrupted "and by half hidden you mean…"_

_"Only people who really believe in magic or know its there can find it. Its pretty useful actually, it means that not just anyone can stumble across it, but it's also not as cut off as the idiotic wizards (no offense meant to you of course). Now like I was saying the Slums looked like as good as any for a place to set up shop so I found a small pub called the Hanged Man and made a deal with the owner, Mr. Swack. He's a pretty nice guy actually, always just on the point of a heart attack and completely mad but-"_

_"Would you focus please" Harry snapped at the older girl. He lover her dearly but every once in awhile she got on his nerves._

_"Sure, no need to get grumpy" Pixie retorted with a halfhearted glare "anyway to make a long story short Mr. S liked me and gave me a job as well as a room to sleep in. It turns out though that the slums aren't really apart of either the muggle or the magical world and therefore have no government except what they make themselves. Basically I'm living in the criminal under world and am the bartender for every thief, con artist, and murder in the city magical or otherwise."_

_Happy with herself she sat back and sipped the milkshake she had managed to order from the irate waitress. For a solid five minutes all Harry could do was gape._

_"You left privet drive?" he finally said. Incredulously, Pixie stared._

_"I just tell you that I got a job working with and probably for criminals in a society you know nothing about with at least a hundred different types of magic floating around (none of which I may add use your silly stick) and your biggest concern is that I left privet drive?" She was practically screaming by the end, earning her a few funny looks from the other patrons of the dinner._

_"Well yeah," Harry said, genuinely confused "After discovering magic is real, theirs not much else you can tell me that would be shocking. Leaving privet drive though, that's amazing."_

_For a second Pixie looked over the boy she regarded as her brother. Small, messy, and near sighted he was begging to be taken care of. Not only that but he was her first true friend. Deciding that now was as good a time as any she cut to the chase._

_"Good, then you won't mind if we skip the living with your oh so loving family for the summer and just come stay with me?" What happened next she didn't except._

_"Sorry Pix, I can't. Professor Dumbledore says that in order to be kept safe from Voldemort I have to stay with Aunt Petunia." He looked so sad that Pixie wanted to lean over and never let him go. Then his words hit her. For a split second all she could see was red. And then she lost it._

_"Kept safe? Kept safe?" she hissed "What part of the Dursley's are keeping you safe. The part where they starve you? Or how about the part where they use you as a personal slave? Or my personal favorite, where you get to act as punching bag for your bastard uncle? Bloody hell you'd probably be safer if you stood in the middle of London yelling 'I'm unprotected please kill me.'"_

_"Pixie, Voldemort got into the school this year. He almost killed me. I need all the protection I can get. Even if I have to suffer through a few knocks to get it."_

_When he looked at his friends face all he saw was complete disbelief. Her milkshake had been long forgotten by now and instead she was concentrating fully on him._

_"A few knocks? Do I need to list the amount of concussions, broken bones, sprained wrists, and bruises you have received over the years to get it through your head that that is more then a few knocks?"_

_"I'm going back Pix. That's final." In the back of his mind he noticed that Pixie was wearing the same face she wore when she decided that Harry was going to eat the last bit of the meal they had scrounged up: pure determination._

_"Only stay for a month." She said suddenly. Harry opened his mouth to protest but was cut off. "I'll restock the hideout with better medicine and food. You can last a month their without too much difficulty and me and some of my friends can keep an eye on you to make sure you don't get to badly hurt. After a month you have your 'protection' and then you can come stay with me. Then at least part of your summer will be decent. We always need help around the Hanged Man and besides, you can get better at juggling." Harry had to laugh at that last bit. He had taught himself to juggle with the help of Pixie during recess at school. The skill was one that he loved and something he was genuinely proud of. Turning the options over in his mind he nodded._

_"You got yourself a deal."_

_Present day_

"We're here" Pixie said pulling Harry out of his thoughts.

Harry looked out the window at the bustling train station but made no move to leave. He wasn't ready yet. He was still in the mode of helping Pixie run the Hanged Man and listing to the stories the old con-men told. Just an hour ago he had taught one of the kids who ran odd jobs for them how to juggle four apples.

"Doitvite, if you're not getting out does this mean you're going to listen to me and skip this year of school?" Harry tried to smile at the use of his nickname but it just turned out as a grimace.

"I'm going. Just preparing myself." He said turning back to her half sad, half angry face.

Looking at Pixie he was always amazed at how much she had changed. The little girl who stole books on herb lore to fix her and her friend was gone. In her place was a twenty year old woman who had seen it all and done most of it. Her hair short now and bright purple. Her face had lost any of the roundness it once held and was sharp although in a certain way pretty. If he looked closely he could see the small white crescent scar from the very last time her father had ever backhanded her. Even though it was warm out she wore a coat and fingerless gloves. Underneath he knew was a gun and at least two knifes. Absentmindedly he touched his thigh where his own knife was strapped on. At some point he noted he would need to hide it in his trunk.

It was funny he realized, how well the two of them fit-in in the slums. They had taken to the strange combination of complete disregard for outside laws and strict code of traditions to keep the peace like fish to water. Compared to their home lives before, the slums little struggles for survival were nothing. He knew that if it wasn't for the prophecy he would probably give up his life as Harry, boy-who-lived and stay in with Pixie forever.

"Hey, stop thinking so hard." Pixie said only half joking. "It'll work itself out somehow." Harry had to snort. To everyone else she was the dry witted bartender who took no shit but would give a free drink to whoever had the best tale. There she was know for being almost fanatically neutral in the gang fights that were constantly going on, but also for being a shrewd businesswoman. The Hanged Man under her watch had changed from a little out of the way bar to a central hub for Slum politics. Yet here she was, trying to convince him everything was fine. He gave her one last half hearted grin before opening the door to leave.

"Harry," she called stopping him.

"Yeah?"

"It was a hard summer. The worst summer possible and well, I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner." She was biting her lip nervously, one hand straying toward her face to brush away a piece of neon purple hair. He knew that she was beating herself up about what had happened. Somehow she had taken the blame onto herself when if anything it was his. They cared about each other too much and in the end that was their undoing.

"It's not your fault Pix." Harry hastened to assure her "I should have been…. Well it was just a few knocks right?" and before she had time to reply he had gathered up all his stuff and was heading off toward his other life.

**AN: Ok so heres the first real chapter. If your confused deeply tell me so I can fix it. Some of the confusion though is supposed to happen and it will be explained later. Like everyother author on this site I have one simple request: REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 2: Much needed Information

**Title: Seven of Swords  
Author: Magpie quill  
Summary: AU. Harry Potter has two lives: 1. The boy who lived and 2. Doitvite, the juggler. He thought that he could keep them apart but when it turns out that he's the mate of a Veela, problems arise. Ignores HBP. slash DMHP, child abuse.  
Disclaimer: Many characters and places seen here are the property of J. K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Everything that you do not recognize from the Harry Potter books and movies is mine.  
Warnings: AU, OC, DM/HP, slash, child abuse, complex characters, mild drug/alcohol abuse, Dumbledore bashing**

It was good to be back Harry decided. There was a certain amount of comfort in the old boy-who-lived personality. True there were some mishaps slipping back in. He had almost pulled a knife when Hermione had snuck up and nearly strangled him in her death hugs. And then there was a flinch that he hoped went unnoticed when Ron clapped him on the shoulder. Harry was also pretty sure that Hermione suspected something after he had mentioned a popular restaurant he had no business knowing but other then that the transition went smoothly. If he tried really hard he could even pretend that the summer hadn't happened.

Currently Harry was sitting in the usual compartment with Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Neville. Ginny had been in earlier but had gone off with Dean much to Ron's consternation. Surveying the compartment a small smile passed across his face. Ron and Hermione were in the middle of a chess game that was decidedly one sided in Ron's favor while Neville and Luna were talking about an animal that Luna had clearly made up. Last year though before one of the DA meetings Harry and Neville had figured out that it was just a very complicated game for Luna. The general principle was Luna made something completely crazy up and the other players (witting or not) had to try and get her to say something about it that would contradict evidence already made up. It was amusing although Neville was the only one who was any good at it.

Harry was about to try and get into the conversation in the hopes of pushing the summer even farther out of his mind when the door swung open. Harry could have groaned then and their. Standing in the doorway was Malfoy and the goons. While it was true that it wouldn't be a real train ride without Malfoy poking in his little ferret face it was still annoying. Between the Hanged Man and Death Eaters Harry was pretty clear on who was worth the energy to fight. Draco Malfoy did not even rank on the list.

"Well, well if it isn't the little Griffin-dorks" Malfoy began. In the back of Harry's mind a little voice that sounded suspiciously like Pixie was saying 'great, not even a knew insult. Doesn't he even notice that one person in this crowd is a ravenclaw?'

"I'm surprised your all still-" but whatever Malfoy was surprised about was lost forever when he fainted dead away. The goons (AKA Crabbe and Goyle) looked just as shocked as the other inhabitants of the compartment but quickly gathered up their mas…. Err their friend and left as quickly as their girth would let them.

For a second no one spoke. Then the entire compartment burst out into laughter and mockery. In the back of Harry's mind though, he was trying to figure out why Malfoy had fainted when he looked at Harry.

The rest of the train ride had gone smoothly without anymore signs of Malfoy the amazing fainting ferret as Ron had dubbed him. The carriage ride up to the castle had gone equally smoothly as well as the welcoming feast. The part of Harry though that was always in Hanged Man mode though, quickly noticed that Malfoy was not at the feast and that Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling more then ever. It came as little surprise then when at the end of the feast Dumbledore called for Harry to come to his office although the why was still unclear. Bidding goodbye to his friends he headed up to the Headmasters lair.

By some arrangement that had never been figured out, the walk to the headmasters' office was always ridiculously long no matter where you started. Harry had asked Hermione about it once. After a week of her camping in the library the only answer he got was "the founders had a rather twisted sense of humor." Judging by the blush that had stained her face for the next week, Harry had to guess that the walk to the Headmasters office wasn't the only little joke the founders had made.

On days like this though, Harry was glad for the extra long walk. It gave him time to think of a plan or at least figure out what was going on and when dealing with Dumbledore this was a must. Harry had long ago lost any illusions about Albus Dumbledore's character. For all that the man had turned down political positions, he was still very much involved with the ministry of magic and more importantly the running of the wizarding world. Harry was also quite sure that Dumbledore would not hesitate to screw him over if he thought it would be better for the "greater good." Who Harry's guardians were was proof enough of that.

And all this thought brought Harry back to the original question: what did the headmaster want and what did it have to do with Malfoy? No matter how Harry twisted the information over in his mind he couldn't see the sense in it. Harry sits in his compartment talking too friends. Malfoy enters to torment. Malfoy faints after he looks at Harry. No sign of Malfoy for the rest of the evening. Dumbledore looking like Christmas came early. What was the common link? Before he could peace it together, Harry had arrived at the entrance to the office, with the gargoyle already aside for Harry's entrance.

The first thing Harry noticed when he entered the office was how crowded it was. The second thing he noticed was who exactly was there. Dumbledore was of course sitting behind his desk. Beside him though were Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape both of which had their most serious faces on (something that on Snape had been rumored to make firsties cry). The other two occupants of the room were ferret and ferret senior himself: Lucius Malfoy.

Seeing the last occupant of the room Harry almost gulped. Whatever the situation was must be very serious to warrant the appearance of Malfoy senior. Dumbledore was fiercely protective of his territory and didn't stand for parents (especially parents who were known death eaters) on Hogwarts grounds. Yet here stood Lucius Malfoy in Dumbledore's office with out the old man looking at all irritable. In fact to Harry's eye he looked even happier then usual.

"Ah, Harry my dear boy. Come in, sit down. Please, have a lemon drop" called Professor Dumbledore rising as Harry entered the room. Warily Harry took the seat offered; one that he happened to notice was situated next to the younger Malfoy. In fact said Malfoy was currently staring at him in a way that could only be defined as creepy. Putting on the "confused little boy" face he turned to the Headmaster pointedly ignoring the boy next to him.

"Umm sir, what's going on?" in truth Harry didn't need to act all that much. As loath as he was to admit it, he was completely confused.

"You see Harry, Mr. Malfoy here is a rather special student," Dumbledore said all the while smiling benevolently at everyone at once, "to be precise he is a Veela." Apparently this was supposed to mean something to Harry as every adult in the room was staring at him expectantly.

"OK sir, But what does any of this have to do with me?" Harry asked genuinely perplexed. He supposed their was some key bit of information here that he was missing but their wasn't much he could do about it. His knowledge of Veela was limited to having seen some at the world cup and knowing that Fleur was quarter Veela (or possibly an eighth). Judging by the faces around him it was clear that this was not nearly enough information.

"This is relevant to you Potter," Snape finally snapped out "because you are Mr. Malfoy's mate." Whatever Harry had been expecting, that was not it. In fact, because of the shock Harry uttered probably one of the stupidest questions ever to pass through his lips.

"His what?"

Professor McGonagall apparently decided to take pity on him and explained "Mr. Potter, Full-blooded Veela like Mr. Malfoy here has a life mate. They find out who it is when they come into their inheritance which for Mr. Malfoy was just this summer. Once they find their mate they must bond with him or her or else they will eventually die. What you must understand is that this bond must be consensual and that it is binding. There is no undoing this once it has been done. Do you understand?"

"So Malfoy will die if I say no?" Harry asked completely ignoring the rest of McGonagall's words for the moment and trying to avoid the rather unnerving looks that the littlest Malfoy were giving him.

"Yes Harry," Professor Dumbledore replied Harry "That is exactly what would happen."

"Can I have some time to think it over?" Was Harry's question. He needed to talk to Hermione and find out what exactly the bond involved and then he needed to send a letter to Pixie. Professor McGonagall was about to reply when Dumbledore cut her off.

"Perhaps Harry, we could speak about this matter privately? I'm sure you have questions that the others may not find as important as they are not in you particular position." Although the question was addressed to Harry it was clear that it was a temporary dismissal for the rest of the room. Obediently, if not happily, the other occupants filed out. When the door had finally swung shut Dumbledore turned back to Harry.

"Harry I am sure that this seems overwhelming. And I'm positive that for you this seems to be possibly the worst thing that could happen but there is a silver lining." Dumbledore said. Before Harry could even get a word in the Headmaster was off again "While Lucius is certainly tied to Voldemort, his first priority will always be to his family specifically his son. With you bound to Draco, Lucius will undoubtedly come over to our side." Dumbledore finished. On his face was a smile that has only ever been seen on children being told Christmas will come twice in one year.

And their was the clincher Harry thought dejectedly my bonding is nothing more then a political play. Lovely. As much as Harry would like to take the time to stew in self-pity, he had more important things to figure out first.

"Sir, what precisely does it mean to be the mate of a veela?" Harry asked quietly. Snapping out of his reverie, Dumbledore began to answer the question.

"What we will do tonight is the acceptance ceremony." In the back of his mind Harry noticed there was no mention of if Harry would agree or not. "This is effectively just a spell that promises that you will bond with Mr. Malfoy at some point in the future. From there your magic will adjust to each other and a temporary bond will form. This will allow the veela in the relationship to know how you are feeling and if you are in danger. Because of how protective Veela's are of their mates this is important. Also because of this bond if one of you dies the other will die too from shock. Eventually you two will complete the bond when you have sex. The complete bond will tie you permanently together and effectively blend your magic. It will also be impossible to undo once it is formed. In this particular case the sooner this happens the better." Because it was Professor Dumbledore he was talking too it took a moment for Harry to register what the old man was saying. Then it hit him.

"Sex?!"

"Yes, the bonding ceremony is an old piece of sex magic. You understand now why this must be consensual." Dumbledore explained. If Harry didn't know better he would say that the headmaster seemed amused.

"Wait you said earlier that it was only impossible to undo after the bond is completed. What about before then?" Harry asked desperately.

"The only way Harry for that to happen is if you were to become pregnant with someone else's child. In that case you would be bound to them but the bond would only go one way. You to them."

Harry sat back stunned. He knew such a thing was possible in the wizarding world with the right potions and spells but still, he couldn't say that that option seemed better then the other. Finally he settled on repeating his earlier question.

"May I have time to think this over, sir?" Even as he said it he knew his answer. Dumbledore wanted this alliance and that would be the end of it.

"I'm sorry my boy. We are out of time. You need to decide now. As you decide please remember that if you choose to reject Mr. Malfoy he will die."

Taking a deep breath Harry nodded. "Very well, I accept. Let's get this over with."

The next couple of minutes passed as a complete haze. The others filed back in and Harry's decision was told to the others. Then Harry and Draco were told to hold out their right hand as Dumbledore cast the binding spell. After that some papers were brought out which everyone signed. It sent strange sensations up Harry's arms but he just accepted it. Chances anyway were that this wouldn't be the last of the weirdness. Suddenly Professor McGonagall brought Harry out of his thoughts.

"Because of the bond you two will be having your own quarters to live in. You will also be given the next three days off to get to know each other. Harry, because of your unfamiliarity of the situation, Lucius here has agreed to answer any questions you may have tonight. If there's nothing else, Professor Snape will take you down to your new quarters." Seeing no complaints she nodded to Snape and the small party left to face the rest of the night.

**AN: Just a few things to clear up. This is officially taking place in the sixth year. I am also choosing to use cannon as I see fit. This means that some things from canon will simply disappear even as I keep other items. Also there will be Dumbledore bashing as I go on but it will start out relatively light. **

**Hope you all enjoyed that. Please drop me a review to give me any helpful criticism, ask any questions, or just tell your appreciation! Thanks**

**Magpie Quill**


	4. Chapter 3: Words, Words, Words

**Title: Seven of Swords  
Author: Magpie quill  
Summary: AU. Harry Potter has two lives: 1. The boy who lived and 2. Doitvite, the juggler. He thought that he could keep them apart but when it turns out that he's the mate of a Veela, problems arise. Ignores HBP. slash DMHP, child abuse.  
Disclaimer: Many characters and places seen here are the property of J. K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Everything that you do not recognize from the Harry Potter books and movies is mine.  
Warnings: AU, OC, DM/HP, slash, child abuse, complex characters, mild drug/alcohol abuse, Dumbledore bashing**

Slowly Harry followed Snape away from the Headmasters office. Ahead of him he saw that Lucius Malfoy and Snape were talking in hushed tones and, judging by the glances they kept sending back, it was about him. How bloody typical.

Quite suddenly they stopped in front of a large tapestry. Looking at it Harry realized that he'd never seen it before, not completely unusual because of how large the castle was, but still… strange. The tapestry was about eight feet wide and stretched from floor to ceiling. Depicted on a red background was a huge tree that filled the entire space. Hanging off the branches was everything from garlands of flowers to fish. Clearly the artist had taken the idea of "the tree of life" to an extreme. Sitting on one of the branches was a man and a woman chatting amicably. Looking over the tapestry Harry noticed that unlike in a painting most of the elements stayed relatively still. The animals still flicked their tails and the branches swayed slightly but nothing moved from their place. Entranced Harry was about to examine it more closely when Snape suddenly spoke.

"Love makes the world go round" Snape managed to spit out, looking, for all the world, as if the words physically pained him.

With a small rustle the tapestry rustled back revealing a wooden door behind it. Still chuckling to himself about Snape's face when he had to say that particular phrase he followed the Slytherins into his new quarters.

Looking around the common room Harry was impressed. It wasn't huge just a couple chairs and a big couch around a fireplace with a desk and some bookshelves in another corner but it exuded an air of comfort. The color scheme was also a comforting mix of the two house colors with green walls, pillows and carpet and gold and tan furniture and moldings. Some how the combination turned out all right.

"When you are done examining the room Mr. Potter we will need to speak" Came Mr. Malfoy's voice. Clearly he was trying to be polite but it was obviously not something that came easily. Turning he saw that all three Slytherins were watching him with unreadable expressions. Sighing slightly Harry nodded.

"Yeah, let me just drop some stuff off in my room and I'll be right there." He told them self-conscious of the fact that there was still a knife strapped to his leg. He supposed that while Pixie may have approved Professor McGonagall would not be so happy. He was about to turn and go when he realized a rather important detail. "Umm, where is my room sir?" he asked Snape.

Clearly resisting the urge to role his eyes, Snape pointed to one of the two doors in the opposite wall. "Your room, Potter is through the door on the right. It is spelled so only someone you want to enter may do so." Without another word Harry stepped through the door and into his room.

The first thing he saw was red. Red was literally everywhere. Red walls, red carpet, even red tinted wood. The second thing Harry noticed was the bed. It was big, red, and in the very center of the room. The message delivered was neither restrained nor subtle. It was simply put "have sex with Malfoy ASAP."

For a second Harry just stared, then he got mad. How dare the interfering old coot do this! He was not some slut to be used as the headmaster saw fit! Resisting the urge to burn the horrendous thing that was taking up his room, Harry drew his wand and concentrated hard. With a few quick angry jabs the entire room had changed.

The walls and ceiling now were an incredibly deep cobalt blue. The moldings and all the fixtures had been painted white making them stand out. The carpet was gone and in its place was hard wood floor. The desk that had been crammed into the corner was now changed into an extensive work table with all the things he might need: paper, parchment, pens, quills as well as other items he might need: things like a miniature blow torch and coils of copper wire.

The…thing that had been taking up his room was now a single bed in one corner. The sheets had been turned light blue with navy blue and white Polk-a-dots. The blood red comforter had been transformed into a crazy quilt made of various blue and white pieces none of which were alike.

Surveying the room once more, he noticed the things he didn't really see before: A small armoire which his trunk was by, a door that he assumed led into a bathroom, a big bay window (thought the curtains were drawn so he couldn't really see what it overlooked) and a rug that was still the irritating red. Another flick of his wand fixed that issue. Realizing that time wasn't on his side Harry quickly rolled up his pants leg and un-strapped his knife.

Going over to his trunk, Harry opened it up and started digging around for something. Finally he found whatever he was searching for and pulled it out. In his hands was an extra large lock box. Whispering the password, he carelessly flicked open the lid and surveyed his tools.

The train ride had knocked around a couple things but for the most part everything was ok. In the top section were his three knifes and a small handgun as well as his juggling balls. Underneath that was the set of lock picks that Pixie had made him take that he swore he wouldn't use, his "work" clothing, some of the more useful Weasly products, and the various potions that he may or may not need: Polyjuice, pepper-up potion, some basic healing items, and a very small vial of veritsurem. There was also some muggle makeup incase he needed to disguise himself without magic. Seeing it he once more made Harry roll his eyes.

Pixie had put the box together and clearly she was even more paranoid then Mad-eye Moody. Quickly he packed everything away and placed the box gently back into the trunk. Dusting himself he headed toward the door. Struck by an idea suddenly he cast a quick accio and caught the extendable ear that came flying toward him. Sticking it under the door he listened to the conversation going on.

"He's taking a long time." The voice was unmistakably Malfoy, or Draco as Harry guessed he should call him. They were bonded or whatever now.

"I would like to know why he left in the first place." Came the cool voice of the potions master.

"The boy said that he needed to drop something off in his room." Came the aristocratic reply of Lucius Malfoy.

"I am well aware of what he said Lucius, that wasn't my concern." The reply snapped back. In his mind Harry could just see the frown Snape was likely to be wearing.

"Well then what was your concern?" It was clear that all the occupants of the room were very much on edge. With a long-suffering sigh Snape began to explain.

"My concern was what Potter was dropping off. His trunk was already taken to the room, he had no bag, and I didn't notice anything large enough to be uncomfortable in his pockets. So what did he need to go to his room for?"

Before Mr. Malfoy had the opportunity to answer Mal- Draco cut him off. "What were you doing looking through my mates pockets?"

"I was not looking through your mates pockets, Draco. I was taking in details about him and one of the things I didn't notice was a bulge in his pockets."

Deciding that he may as well make reappearance now, Harry carefully put away the extendable ear and headed into the common room. Without so much as a word he took the remaining chair and surveyed the room. Sitting directly across from him looking as imperturbable as usual was Malfoy Senior. It was clear that he too was looking over the newest edition to the Malfoy house. How disappointed he was though, was impossible to tell. Standing by the fireplace was the greasy git, and sitting next to Harry on the couch was the veela himself: Draco Malfoy.

Looking over his new mate, Harry had to admit that at the very least he wasn't hard on the eyes. He was probably about five foot nine inches, putting him about three inches over Harry. Draco's body had also filled out over the summer. More muscular then before he seemed less like the snarky git from Harry's first train ride. Mentally shaking his head he turned back to the situation at hand.

"So how's this going to work, what with you all being rather large supporters of someone who wants me very dead?" Harry asked, deciding that if Lucius didn't know about Snape's position as a spy, he, Harry, wasn't about to tell him. His bluntness clearly shocked the room. Quite frankly though, right now Harry was too tired to care. "Well?" he asked again when it was clear no one was going to answer him.

"Harry, first and foremost you're my mate," Draco began "you clearly don't understand what this means. Even if I wanted to I couldn't do something to hurt you. You're my mate and I will protect you no matter what. If that means siding with the order of the fool, so be it."

The little speech stunned Harry. Hearing words like that from your rival did very little for ones health. It was all in all too weird. Harry glanced at the adults to see if they were as surprised by the little monolog that Draco had just delivered: they weren't. Not knowing what else to do Harry turned to what had always worked before: Sarcasm and anger.

"Thanks for the sentiment Draco, but I don't need to be protected." He snapped, "What I need to know is what in hell is going on and how I'm going to deal with it." He hadn't really meant to say that last part but he was tired. Smoothly Malfoy senior cut in

"I do believe that, that would be useful for us all. As Dumbledore explained in his rather hasty manner, you are a Veela's mate. Of course what that precisely means was rushed over and I doubt you understood most of it." His voice was filled with contempt, whether for Dumbledore or for Harry himself wasn't clear. "Let me explain. As was already told to you, the bonding is more or less a promise for Draco to take care of you and keep you safe and for you to keep Draco's magic in check. This is what the bond gives both of you but it does not describe what the bond actually is. Do you understand?" the question came so quickly it took Harry a second to figure out that he had been asked something.

Quickly he responded.

"Yeah, basically the give-take thing is the side effects not the bond itself."

For a moment the elder Malfoy paused as if trying to come up with a suitable insult before giving up and continuing.

"Close enough. In any case what the bond is, is nothing less then a complete tying of the soul (and therefore magic) to another being, which in cases like this, will fit you perfectly. Most of the changes that happen when a veela finds its mate are to the Veela, not the mate. The only real change you will experience is that it will be uncomfortable to be away from Draco for prolonged amounts of time. You will also be very aware of Draco's magic. That Mr. Potter is 'what in hell is going on' as you so crudely put it." Ignoring Lucius's gibe, Harry jumped straight into the last point.

"What do you mean 'be aware of Draco's magic'? What's going to happen?" It was clear from the look on Lucius's face that he thought this was a drastic waste of time. Before he could make some smart remark though Draco cut in.

"Its different for every couple. Sometimes they just know what their Veela is doing magically. Some people have reported being able to hear music when their veela performs a spell. It just depends." He explained. Harry nodded and sat back to think. Seeing a pause in the conversation Snape spoke for the first time.

"Because of the situation you two will be confined to these rooms here in order to get too know each other better. Sit down Mr. Potter!" Snape snapped as Harry jumped to his feet to protest. "I have no interest on your thoughts on this matter. The headmaster has decided this is best so please spare me your rant." Fixing Harry with one last glare he turned to Lucius. "Lucius, we will need to go and speak with the Headmaster now about your new…situation. Draco to change the password simply point your wand at the back of the tapestry while standing in this room and say the old password plus the new. Please do so immediately." And without so much as a 'good evening' he swept out the door. Lucius stood up to leave but before he reached the door he turned back to his son.

"I would suggest that you two get to know each other or else the rest of your lives will be an incredibly awkward affair. My best wishes to you both." And with that he was gone.

--

The two boys watched the adults leave with two very different expressions. Draco was showing as much emotion as Harry had ever seen him with and looked somewhere between hopeful and happy. Harry meanwhile was feeling as if someone had knocked him in the gut. It wasn't so much Malfoy as it was the idea of being locked in.

Before Malfoy ("Draco" Harry reminded himself) had the chance to say anything Harry walked over to the door to see if there was any chance of getting through. The door though was firmly locked. Banging on it in frustration he collapsed back in his seat. Through out it all Draco just watched him with an amused smirk on his face. Seeing that his mate wasn't about to start the conversation he began.

"Well tell me something about yourself?" Draco demanded. Although it wasn't his usual I'm-the-king-of-Slytherin-fear-me voice, it still wasn't easy for Harry not to curse him simply out of reflex.

"Like what?" Short, abrupt, and incredibly rude: Pixie would have been proud. Still he was tired and didn't want to deal with any of this. In fact he was begging to seriously regret not listening to Pixie and staying home.

"I don't know. How about…" It was clear Draco had no idea what to ask. The two of them had never had a civil conversation in their life so neither knew anything about the other. Finally he struck on something that should be neutral "How you spent your summer."

Instantly Harry paled. Of all the topics Draco had to pick it was that one. Schooling his face back to neutral he gave his usual blasé response.

"Didn't do nothing much. Stayed out of my relatives way, hung out with friends." Even as he said it Harry knew he wasn't being believed. Somehow Draco Malfoy had done what no one else had ever managed: He had figured out when Harry was lying.

Narrowing his eyes the bigger boy turned to his mate. "What happened?" He demanded. Short too the point and very little room left to maneuver.

Harry turned away quickly "nothing happened. It was a boring summer." He lied. Glancing at the veela he could see it wasn't doing any good.

"Don't lie. Its unbecoming." Came the sharp retort "I can tell when your feeling distress and its pretty much rolling off you in waves."

"Well then clearly your veela senses are wrong. I'm fine" Harry replied even as he was trying to concentrate on something different so as to push away the emotions he was feeling.

"Stop lying and tell me what happened."

The two boys were now head to head trying to stare the other one down.

"Please tell me?" Draco asked almost kindly. Harry looked away, and for a second Draco thought he would get an answer. Before he had a chance to even move though Harry had muttered something about being tired and bolted for his room. Watching the door close behind the raven-haired boy Draco sank back into the warm couch. Something was going on and he was determined to find out what.

**AN: Hey everyone! I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed already. Like all writers though I love to hear your feedback! Anything that struck you about the chapter that just read please tell me in a review. Thanks!**

**Magpie Quill**


	5. Chapter 4:The big, the bad, and the ugly

**Title: Seven of Swords  
Author: Magpie quill  
Summary: AU. Harry Potter has two lives: 1. The boy who lived and 2. Doitvite, the juggler. He thought that he could keep them apart but when it turns out that he's the mate of a Veela, problems arise. Ignores HBP. slash DMHP, child abuse.  
Disclaimer: Many characters and places seen here are the property of J. K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Everything that you do not recognize from the Harry Potter books and movies is mine.  
Warnings: AU, OC, DM/HP, slash, child abuse, complex characters, mild drug/alcohol abuse, Dumbledore bashing**

Draco Malfoy could be described as many things this particular morning. Happy was not one of them. To begin with were the rooms he'd been forced to occupy. It was hard not being in the same room as his mate, so having a bed that would fit himself, Harry and a couple others without any invasion of his personal space was just unbearable. He supposed the huge bed was the house elves' way of being considerate, but quite frankly if the bed didn't't contain his mate soon, he would lose control of his Veela side and do something he would later regret.

Then there was the noise that had woken him up this ungodly early hour.

_BANG_

And there it was again. Groaning in frustration Draco flipped over and stuffed his head under his pillow. Screw proper Malfoy behavior! The random noises had been going on for the last fifteen minutes and he was tired damn it! Suddenly, there was a particularly loud slam followed by a small yelp. In impossible time the young Malfoy was out of bed and at the door. No matter what else Draco thought, he knew whom that yelp belonged to and he'd go to hell before he rested while his mate was hurt.

Throwing open the door, Draco was greeted by a rather strange view of the common room. The first thing he noticed was that the door leading out of the room was currently leaning against the wall completely removed from the door frame. The second thing Draco noticed was the large smoldering stain that was the back of the tapestry. Slowly his eyes shifted to the cause of this whole mess: Harry.

The young man was currently sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the door with his wand and bits of metal, and some objects that Draco vaguely recognized as muggle instruments scattered around him. The look on his face though was priceless. Harry was currently glaring at the back of the tapestry like the current state of the room was entirely its fault. On someone else the glare may have been scary. On Harry though, the only word to describe it was adorable, forcing Draco to snicker lightly.

Instantly Harry was on his feet ('_almost like he's expecting something bad' _a little voice in the back of Draco's mind nagged). It was clear that he was expecting something. Almost immediately though he relaxed a bit. While he obviously didn't trust Draco he still didn't think it necessary to actively defend himself. Draco wasn't sure if he should be happy or insulted.

Harry opened his mouth to say something and then stopped. His eyes glanced at the mess he had made and he gave a somewhat sheepish grin. For all that though, it was clear that he was waiting for Draco to make the first move. Rather then say anything Draco looked over his mate.

The green-eyed boy in front of him was small. There was no possible way to get around that. Unlike when Draco had first seen him though, Harry wasn't scrawny. The only way to describe him was delicate. High cheekbones and slender features gave the boy the look of a dancer. His eyes though were what really caught Draco's notice. It has been said many a time that eyes are the windows into a person's soul. Draco had never believed something so completely idiotic until now. His mate's eyes were wide and almost childlike. They seemed to be seeing everything for the first time and delighting in it. Underneath though he could see… Something. Draco didn't know what it was but he was going to find out.

"I assume there is a perfectly reasonable explanation why our common room looks like a tornado hit?" Draco drawled, his eyes never once leaving Harry's. If the smaller boy was uncomfortable he didn't show it. Instead he met the gaze levelly.

"I needed to send an owl."

The explanation sounded so reasonable coming from his mate that it took Draco a moment for his brain to catch up with his ears.

"Wait… what?"

"I need to send a letter. Which means that I need to get to the owlery. Which means I need to get out of this room. Which means that I need to get through the door." Harry explained calmly as if this all made perfect sense. All Draco could do was stare. He could see Harry's mouth moving (_'a perfectly kissable mouth_' the little voice muttered) and he could hear words yet they didn't make any sense.

"Let me try and understand this. You destroyed the door and started blasting at a tapestry that probably had more spells on it then any other object in the wizarding world because you needed to send a letter?" No matter how hard he tried Draco couldn't keep some of his utter disbelief out of his voice.

Completely unperturbed Harry nodded "Yes. But I didn't destroy the door."

"The door is detached from the door frame. If that's not destroyed I don't know what is." Much to his consternation Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Wizards! Look I can put it back in place in about ten minutes. All I did was remove the hinges. Its not hard to fix."

Rather then go ten rounds about how on earth he was going to put the door back (or about what "hinges" were), Draco focused on the main issue.

"Who would you need to send a letter too? It's the first day of school." It was now Harry's turn to stare at him.

"What?" Draco asked a little unnerved.

"I'm trying to find the scars left over from your lobotomy."

"Excuse me?!" Draco practically yelled. Who did he think he was, insinuating that Draco was insane? The question was reasonable and his tone polite yet Harry still was being rude! Well, Draco would show him. Drawing himself up to his full height, Draco was about to launch into his verbal assult when suddenly he felt fear radiating off his mate. For a moment he was confused, completely befuddled about what could be causing this fear. then it hit him: His mate was afraid of him.

Instantly his eyes shot up to search his mates face. At first glance there was no trace of the fear, just defiance and a bit of anger, then he saw it. It was deep in the emerald eyes, hidden away from all but the most perceptive looks, but it was there. Instantly Draco felt ashamed. He had frightened his mate and it was only the first day. He was about to start reassuring the smaller boy when he was cut off.

"Unlike you Malfoy,_ my family_ wasn't here last night and as such needs to be informed of the situation."Harry snapped out. "Maybe this seems completely normal for you but for me and mine this doesn't happen. Now if you'll excuse me I need to try and get out of this gilded cage." His voice growing in volume until he was practically yelling.

The fear was still there but now it was covered by anger and hurt. What really cut Draco was the use of his last name. Last night the two of them had come to an unspoken agreement to refer to the other by their given names. Draco was the name of the veela while Malfoy was the name of the school rival.

Saddened he watched as Harry picked up his wand and throw a particularly nasty burning hex at the underside of the tapestry. What happened next seemed to both take an amazingly long amount of time and be over in the blink of an eye. Rather then just be absorbed or even damaged by the blow, the tapestry seemed to mutate and turn then turn the curse back onto Harry. The next second he was on the ground holding a burnt arm and Draco was by his side every bit of him horrified that his mate had gotten hurt right in front of his eyes.

"Harry, let me see that- don't move- I might be able to help." Draco said alarm filling every bit of his body. Gently he looked over the arm. The skin was blistered and an angry red. Before he could look any closer though Harry pulled his arm away.

"Its not that bad." For what felt like the millionth time in the last two days Draco just stared at him. The boys arm was literally burned to a crisp and he had the nerve to say 'its not that bad'?

"Its not that bad? You have looked at it right?" Draco asked hoping that just maybe his mate was still stunned and just didn't realize what had happened yet.

"I've looked at it." Came the distracted response. "Accio burn gunk. Accio bandages"

The spelled items game flying through Harry's open door and into his waiting good hand. Unfortunately getting the lid off a jar was a two handed job. Before he could hurt himself even more Draco took away the 'burn gunk' and began to apply it. Slowly he worked it in to the damaged skin and was amazed to see that almost immediately the swelling and redness went down. Surprisingly, Harry didn't pitch a fit about letting Draco take care of him. In fact he seemed to be completely tuned out of the whole proceedings. Finally the salve was applied and the bandages firmly in place.

"I understand that you need to inform your family that you're a veela's mate," Draco began. He had never been good at apologies; they simply weren't his style. On the other hand this was his mate and certain exceptions had to be made. "But you aren't going to get out of here so how about you send your letter with my owl Notus?" It wasn't perfect and the words "I'm sorry" weren't even there, but it would work for now. Wordlessly Harry nodded and then passed Draco a rather beat up letter. Turning it over Draco was surprised by the address. Written in Harry's messy script were the words:

_P. Coleman_

_The Hanged Man_

_Clark street, London_

Draco wanted to ask but thought better of it. Considering the fact that Harry had gotten injured by the last time he questioned him it probably would not be a good idea to broach the subject now. Before he could suppress it though another thought popped into his mind and out his mouth.

"What sort of name is burn gunk?" Inwardly he cringed. He was trying to show that he could be polite. So far he was failing quite miserably. Rather then get glared at though, Harry just gave a half laugh.

"A friend of mine created it. She's pretty amazing at creating new and useful potions but naming them has never been her strong suit." It was a seemingly open answer but somehow it just brought up more questions. Deciding to push his luck Draco continued on his questions.

"Will I get to meet this mysterious friend?"

"I doubt I'll be able to stop you two meeting." Harry replied only half joking. "Hopefully it will be sooner rather then later. Actually, speaking of this, you really better mail that letter soon."

Draco looked at the funny letter again. Before shaking his head.

"Muggles have rather strange addresses." He muttered. Apparently though he wasn't quiet enough.

"Its not a muggle address." Harry called to him from his door way. How his mate had gotten all the way over there in such a short time Draco didn't know but it was clear he was going to have to watch him more closely. Who knew what mischief the Gryffendor Golden boy could get himself into? Shaking off those worries for another time he turned to the problem at hand.

"I thought you lived with muggles."

"I do."

It was short, to the point and clearly irritated. Still, Draco was too confused and too stubborn at this point to back out now.

"I think you owe me an explanation," he said quietly. No matter what volume though, the voice commanded respect. He was a veela and a Malfoy and he was going to get answers. For a moment he thought Harry was going to bolt or yell. Then the boy gave a small sigh and flopped down on the nearest chair.

"All right. Sit down and we'll talk."


	6. Chapter 5: Telling Wild Tales

**Title: Seven of Swords  
Author: Magpie quill  
Summary: AU. Harry Potter has two lives: 1. The boy who lived and 2. Doitvite, the juggler. He thought that he could keep them apart but when it turns out that he's the mate of a Veela, problems arise. Ignores HBP. slash DMHP, child abuse.  
Disclaimer: Many characters and places seen here are the property of J. K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Everything that you do not recognize from the Harry Potter books and movies is mine.  
Warnings: AU, OC, DM/HP, slash, child abuse, complex characters, mild drug/alcohol abuse, Dumbledore bashing  
**

Putting on his best "listening face," Draco cautiously sat down. This was his first real chance to show Harry that he actually was a different person. The young man sitting across from him didn't seem to notice his effort; instead he was playing with a thin piece of metal. The simple action gave Draco a headache like one wouldn't believe. On one hand, he wanted to snatch the piece of metal away and tell Harry to get on with it; on the other, he wanted his mate to be happy and, apparently, the metal strip was a source of entertainment for him. Who knew that being a Veela would be this hard?

Finally after what felt like hours to the impatient blond, Harry began.

"I've lived with my Aunt and Uncle since my parents died." Harry explained reluctantly "Unfortunately we never really… saw eye to eye."

It didn't escape Draco's notice that Harry had hesitated to finish the sentence. Clearly something more was going on with his mate then the boy let on. Despite his Veela sides' insistence that he find out _now_ what exactly that something was, Draco let Harry continue.

"This meant that I spent a lot of the time out of the house. When I was five an older girl moved into the neighborhood and we became close friends. We basically spent so much time together that now we're like siblings. That's who I'm sending the letter too. The address seems strange because I'm sending it to her at her pub." Seeing Draco's confusion, Harry hastily added "She works at a pub in the... magical world."

There it was again! The half hesitations that sent Draco's, for lack of a better term, Veela senses tingling. Something was clearly wrong here, yet from years of experience with the conniving natures of Slytherins, Draco knew Harry wasn't out-right lying. Patiently Draco waited for more, but soon he realized that Harry wasn't planning on sharing any more information. If he wanted to know something he'd just have to figure it out himself.

"Do you want me to send a letter to your blood relatives as well?" Draco asked, all innocence. Inside, his Slytherin self was practically cakling with its sheer brilliance. No matter how Harry answered the question he would have to open himself up to at least some of Draco's questions.

"No!" the boy practically screamed, shocking Draco. "Err… no. Or actually…maybe you should...might help...on the other hand…no... Deffinatley no." by the end of Harry's little moment all of Draco's other questions had flown out the window.

"Was all that absolutely necessary?" Draco asked with a little bit of his former snottyness flitting in. Harry just glared. Quickly putting on a conciliatory voice, Draco started to do what he did best: pry.

"Wouldn't your Aunt and Uncle though want to know whats going on?"

"They don't like magic very much" Harry said carefully "I think this would be a bit much for them to handle."

"But wouldn't they want to know how your doing? Make sure your all in one piece and all of that?" Draco pressed.

"No." Harry snorted, "the only reason I'd tell them is to give them some time to get used to the idea."

"So they wouldn't like me?" Draco asked innocently. Once more Harry turned an incredulous eye on him.

"Were you not paying attention? My relatives don't like _me_. This would just be one more reason as far as they were concerned why I'm a freak. You have nothing to do with the matter."

Hearing Harry's words Draco wasn't sure if he should be insulted or not. He was Draco Malfoy! He was _always_ the heart of the matter! Still, what Harry had said made his eyes gleam: slowly he was getting to whatever it was Harry was hiding. What was more important now though was Harry's insinuation that his disagreement with his relatives was more than them just not getting along.

"Harry?" he asked carefully, trying hard not to sound too obvious, "What did you mean by 'as far as they're concerned, I'm a freak?' " Instantly Harry tensed.

"Nothing. They just don't understand the magical world that's all. You should probablly send that letter now if its going to get their by this afternoon?" It was not an incredibly subtle way of changing the subject but Draco allowed him his privacy – for now anyways. After all they were locked into these rooms for the next few days, he would have lots of time to question Harry later.

"Your right, I'll give it to my owl now." He picked the strange letter back up and started towards his room to send it. Curious, he turned back.

"How did you manage to take off the door?" The raven haired boy just grinned before giving the door to his room a good slam behind him.

**AN: Bet you all thought Harry was going to give the little Veela the full story? Sorry, that wont be coming for a while yet. **

**Ok, now, apologies are in order. Number 1: Sorry for how late this one came, the real world finally caught up to me. Number 2: Sorry about how short this one was. I figured it would be better to get a chapter out there in some form. **


	7. Chapter 6: Of Thoughts and Letters

**Title: Seven of Swords  
Author: Magpie quill  
Summary: AU. Harry Potter has two lives: 1. The boy who lived and 2. Doitvite, the juggler. He thought that he could keep them apart but when it turns out that he's the mate of a Veela, problems arise. Ignores HBP. slash DMHP, child abuse.  
Disclaimer: Many characters and places seen here are the property of J. K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Everything that you do not recognize from the Harry Potter books and movies is mine.  
Warnings: AU, OC, DM/HP, slash, child abuse, complex characters, mild drug/alcohol abuse, Dumbledore bashing  
**

Leaning against his door, Harry let out a deep breath of air. He'd let too much information out. If it had been Hermione, Remus or anyone he was familiar with, questioning him his secret would have been out before he could blink. How idiotic could he be? If he was going to be that careless, he should have just tattooed onto his forehead "I'm weak and can be beat up by a muggle. Psychotics have no fear" and save everyone the trouble of coming up with the right words. Without thinking about it, Harry grabbed one of the multicolored balls sitting on his desk and collapsed onto the rug. Slowly his hands began to move, rolling the ball from hand to hand around his fingers and over his wrists. To anyone watching it would seem impossible, to Harry it was just something to help him clear his mind.

As much as he hated to admit it, Draco wasn't a terrible person. He didn't like the git --generally or romantically-- but he also didn't feel like the next three days were going to be hell. What was going to be bad, though, was when Pixie got the letter. He loved his adoptive sister to death, but he had no false notions about what she could be like when she was angry. Quite frankly she could be worse then Ron sometimes. If he were lucky she would send him a long angry letter with a postscript that included the names of some of their less then law-abiding friends.

Harry snorted. Who was he kidding? The only thing that would stop Pixie coming up to Hogwarts --with guns quite literally blazing—was that she would undoubtedly read it aloud to the entire gang of strange and funny characters that he had befriended since moving part-time into the slums. With any luck one of the cooler heads would prevail and someone would sit on his dear sister until she could form coherent sentences.

The mental image of purple haired Pixie being sat on by the elderly, yet almost terrifyingly agile Cathleen Dowell was enough to almost make Harry drop the colorful sphere out of laughter. There was a very good chance Mrs. Dowell could take her. With another shake of laughter Harry moved onto less disruptive ideas.

It was without a doubt a pleasant way to spend time. The sun poured over him like pale gold with the mental consistency of caramel sticking Harry to his spot on the rug. As the ball-changed position so did his thoughts, rolling, almost impossibly, from one disjointed topic to the next, though never straying into too deep or dark an area. Harry could actually feel his mind slipping away from the present and into his daydreams. If left to it, Harry had no doubt he could have stayed in that spot the entire morning. Unfortunately just as he got to a particularly difficult roll of the ball Draco knocked on his door.

With a small flash of color the ball rolled under the bed and the moment was lost. The sticky butterscotch that was holding Harry firmly in place was just sunlight and the cloud he had been riding was once more just a rug. Even as Harry contemplated ignoring Draco and returning to his favorite pastime Draco knocked again.

"Harry?" More knocking. "Harry, the house elves brought us breakfast and a note from Dumbledore."

What Harry wanted to do was ignore Draco's voice completely. What he wanted was to run around the Gryffindor dorm preparing for his first day of class. Or better yet to be back in the slums teaching Shawn, a kid who helped out around The Hanged Man, how to juggle. What Harry did though was sigh, retrieve the wayward ball and cross to the door to face the Veela.

"What?" Harry snapped out. It was harsher then he had meant it to be but then he was generally harsher these days. Draco didn't look all that hurt, considering that before this, all their words were harsh. Harry guessed that Draco didn't see much difference.

"There are letters from the headmaster for us. One for each actually. Oh and there is also some breakfast."

Ignoring the letters for now Harry sat down at the small table and helped himself to the overflowing pile of eggs, sausages, and fruit that the elves had sent up. Food was a scarce commodity for the months that he spent with the Dursley's, and this summer it had been especially bad. It didn't matter how much he reasoned with himself; in the end when there was food around Harry ate it quickly and frequently. When he had eaten his fill he looked up only to meet the silver eyes that had been watching him.

"Yes?"

"I have never seen someone put away that much food that quickly," Draco said with ill disguised disgust tinted with amusement. "Tell me, did you even taste what you ate?"

"I'm not picky and if you thought that was bad, sit with Ron sometime. It's an experience." It needled Harry a bit to have his manners commented on by the blond, but Harry ignored it. They were going to get through these days as painlessly as possible. What happened after that Harry didn't know, but one step at a time and all that.

"If it's all the same I'll pass. Would you like the letter now?" Draco said dryly

"Yeah sure."

Taking hold of the letter Draco handed him, Harry looked it over. Written on the front in bright red ink was simply _Harry Potter_. Flipping it over, Harry broke the Hogwarts seal and began to read.

_Dear Harry,_

_I thought that you would be interested to know the events of last night. I am sorry to say that Voldemort has attacked once more. The death count of last night's attacks stands at twenty-eight children and forty-three adults dead or dying. The number of injured is not yet clear. We all have hope though that with Lucius Malfoy on our side, we will be better able to fight off and predict Voldemort's attacks. All of his good will though will stem from your ability to seal the bond. While I understand that this must be a hard situation for you, I urge you to think of the greater good. The Malfoys are a powerful family and with their help, the Order will be better able to get ministry support._

_As I am sure that both you and Mr. Malfoy have questions, I have taken the liberty of picking out some books on Veelas and their mates. You should be able to find these books on the shelves in your shared living space. _

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

Quietly, Harry put down the letter. He didn't scream, yell, or cry. He had learned long ago that that did nothing to help a situation. But seventy-one dead was too much. Oh he knew exactly why Dumbledore was telling him this. He knew that it wasn't "to keep him informed." It was so that Harry knew exactly what the stakes were. If Harry wanted to ignore bond with the youngest Malfoy, he would have this blood on his hands. Later he knew he would rant and rage about the old man's manipulations. Now, though, all he could see was the mental image of dead children.


	8. Chapter 7: Two lies and a truth

**Title: Seven of Swords  
Author: Magpie quill  
Summary: AU. Harry Potter has two lives: 1. The boy who lived and 2. Doitvite, the juggler. He thought that he could keep them apart but when it turns out that he's the mate of a Veela, problems arise. Ignores HBP. slash DMHP, child abuse.  
Disclaimer: Many characters and places seen here are the property of J. K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Everything that you do not recognize from the Harry Potter books and movies is mine.  
Warnings: AU, OC, DM/HP, slash, child abuse, complex characters, mild drug/alcohol abuse, Dumbledore bashing**

--

"What did your letter say?"

Harry snapped his head up to meet the curious eyes of the one and only Draco Malfoy. For a second all he could do was stare. Draco wasn't looking at him with the worried eyes of Hermione or the anxiousness of Remus or even the sharp suspicion that Pixie could never shake. Instead there was just mild curiosity. It was different, and quite frankly Harry liked it.

"Do I have something on my teeth?" Draco asked, a slight lilt of amusement in his voice, effectively cutting off Harry's inner rant.

"Sorry. Just got distracted" Harry muttered "The letter was just explaining a bit more about this room. It mentioned that the books on the shelf had more information on Veela and their mates." For a second he thought that Draco was just going to drop the subject when suddenly thought the blonds eyes narrowed.

"Why do you keep lying?" the blond asked. Draco's voice wasn't mean or even demanding. It also though was expecting nothing other then the full truth.

"What do you mean? I wasn't lying." Harry said. After all when in doubt deny everything. Generally it tended to work. Apparently though this time luck wasn't with him.

"I lived with Slytherins my entire life. I can sense lying from 100 meters. You're going to have to do better then that."

"Did you ever consider that maybe I didn't want to tell you everything?" Harry snapped back. Another tactic staple of surviving with huge secrets: if you can put the other person on the defensive. It seemed to be working. The blond actually looked like he was turning the thought over in his head. Then of course he was back to being the irritating slytherin prince that Harry had come to know.

"I've considered the possibility. I've also decided that I don't care. Why do you always lie?"

By this point Draco was leaning back in his chair looking overly smug. It occurred to Harry that Draco was playing a game quite similar to the one Luna loved to play. The trick now was to just figure out the rules. Unfortunately on this particular morning Harry didn't actually have the patience to sit around and do that.

"I lie 'cause it amuses me." Harry said with sarcasm that would have made Snape proud. "And the letter actually did mention that the books" Draco just rolled his eyes.

"I've looked at the books. They're useless." Apparently Draco was willing for the moment to drop the subject. "If you have any questions just ask me. I'd be happy to help"

It irked Harry to ask help of anyone but special circumstances warranted a change in tactics. Besides, anything to get off of the subject of lying

"So what can you tell me about Veela and their mates?"

A slow smile spread across Draco's face as he settled himself into his chair.

"A lot of people have this idea that the Veela mating process is as simple as Veela sees mate, Mate excepts Veela, they have sex, the end. It's more complicated then that. Basically depending on the Veela, how much Veela is in them and who the mate is the whole process has a variety of different ways to unfold."

"So basically you're saying that you don't have a clue?"

"For the love of Merlin Harry, did you not pay attention to anything I just said?" Draco snapped "What I said was that there were different options depending on who is involved not that I didn't know. Do you ever listen to the actual words?"

"Ever heard the phrase actions speak louder then words" Harry shot back.

Of course Draco would concentrate on what was actually being said. For Harry though he had seen enough of the slums to know that words were the least important thing to pay attention to. If you listened to what someone was saying you might miss when they tried to pull a gun on you.

"No actually I haven't. Now would you let me continue?" Only when Harry gave a nod of consent was Draco satisfied enough to go on "As I was saying this depends on who's involved. Considering that both of us are fairly powerful wizards and that I am not a full blooded Veela not to mention the past history between us this is going to be a complicated path to bonding."

Harry couldn't resist rolling his eyes "of course it bloody hell is going to"

"The main problem," Draco said, completely ignoring Harry's interruption "is that you are a 'perfect mate.'"

"Excuse me?"

Draco looked surprised and then sympathetic "you didn't know? Merlin I'm sorry for making you find out like this. I just assumed that you knew-"

"What the hell's a perfect mate?" Whatever Draco had expected Harry to say clearly this wasn't it.

"You… you really don't know?" Draco asked, his face almost comical in its confusion.

"Nooo. I wouldn't have asked if I knew, now would I?" Harry said slowly. It was kind of amazing sometimes how clueless Draco was.

"Sorry. I forgot you were raised by muggles." Said Draco. It was clear that he was used to things going according to plan, and Harry not knowing what a 'perfect mate' was, was not part of the plan.

"A perfect mate is something that almost all purebloods learn about when they're very small. Sort of a childhood staple if you would. A perfect mate is someone who can be bound completely to anyone."

"And that means what exactly?" It was really amazing how irritatingly clueless some wizards were about what muggle raised children actually knew.

"Look, how much do you actually know about bonds?" Draco finally asked. During the course of the conversation one hand had strayed up to absently rub his temples.

"Just assume I know nothing."

"Okay then. Assuming that you know nothing at all about bonds, lets start with what one is. A bond is a form of ancient magic that ties two or more peoples magical cores or other elemental core together-"

Before Draco could get any farther though Harry cut him off: "look just give me the basics, I don't need a history lesson"

The blond looked completely irritated by his mate. It almost seemed as though he would have enjoyed casting a silencing spell on the dark haired boy. Apparently though the urge to prove himself as trustworthy won over and he continued.

"Fine. At the most basic levels there are four kinds of bonds. The first is those like a marriage bond: purely symbolic. Right now that's part of what we have. We signed a contract and were bonded. Technically we each have a little of the others magic in us now but it doesn't affect anything. Second is a soul bond. A soul bond is such that literally the couple only has one soul between them. If one party dies than the other dies as well. This is considered the most 'sacred' if you will of all the bonds. Next is a magic bond. It is very similar to a soul bond in the fact that it is two people sharing the same magical core. The main difference though is that it can be more easily used to control one member of the bond. The last is-"

"Wait what do you mean control?" Harry cut in quickly. The idea of bonding in general and scared him but to hear that their could be such serious side effects as enslavement made him start to rethink his opinion of keeping Pixie out of the whole thing.

It seemed that Draco also noticed the potential danger of handling this question the wrong way. If the situation had been different it would have been amusing to watch him squirm trying to figure out the right way to answer.

"Any sort of magic can be abused" Draco began carefully "However, of all the bonds a magical bond has the most opportunity to be abused. What you have to understand is that each of these types there are millions of variations. The problem is that the main type of magical bond is that between house elf and wizard. The wizard or master uses the house elf's own magic to enslave them. Basically they bend the elf's magic to their own will."

"So your saying that by entering into one of these bonds I could loose myself forever?" Harry asked. Right now it was time for Harry to consider his options, and quite frankly he was thinking seriously about running as far away as possible.

"NO!" Draco shouted. "I mean yes its possible but it wont happen." Clearly Draco was trying to be reassuring; unfortunately he was also failing rather dismally.

Harry stood and stated pacing back and forth; his agitation becoming clearer with each step.

"And what proof do you have that it wont happen? What great thing can you show me to keep _that_ from happening? Nothing is what. Absolutely nothing!" by this point Harry was almost on the point of hysterics. If anyone from the slums had seen him they would have simply cuffed him over the head and told him to snap out of it. Here though there was just Draco.

"Shhh. Its ok. Let me finish explaining this out and then you can ask all the questions you want." Clearly the Veela was not from the slums. "the last kind of bond is the one we will be entering into. It's called a mate bond and just by you recognizing me it's already started to creep in. Basically it's the connecting of minds. When it is complete we will be able to sense each other. We will have the feelings of the others emotions as well as being able to sense each other's magic. There will also be a slight pull toward each other. You may have heard these stories about how Veela and mate have to be close to each other for at least the beginning of their relationship but it's not true. All that you will feel is a slight tug toward wherever I am. Its really not that bad. Nothing bad will happen to you."

Draco voice was calm and authoritative, for some reason it made Harry feel slightly better. At least one person knew what was happening here. Still he it was him, and bad things always happened.

"Its not that easy though is it? Something about me being a perfect mate is messing this up."

Harry thought for sure that Draco was going to deny it and tell him everything would be fine. Instead the blond boy just sighed.

"No it's not that easy. The way these bonds work is that there's a sort of safety catch put into place. Only certain types of people can make certain bonds. It has nothing to do with magical talent, in fact there have been cases of muggles forming certain bonds, it's just something you're born with. There is though a special group of people referred to as 'Perfect Mates'-"

"Me" a small part of Harry was warmed by the fact that Draco hadn't lied, wasn't keeping the truth a secret. Later when he had calmed down more Harry would realize that it was one of the first times inside Hogwarts walls that someone had just came right out and given him the harsh truth.

"Yes you. These people can have any sort of bond with anyone else. They are also always the Mate or the person that the bond happens too. Sometimes this can be a good thing. You can have a bond with whomever and not need luck to be compatible with that person. It can let you protect and be protected easily by the ones you love. The problem is though that now that you have agreed to consider a mate bond with me you are awakened. In other words everyone will be able to sense that you are a perfect mate. This isn't anything to be ashamed of" Draco hastened to assure him only "It's only bad because well… Perfect mates are highly valued."

Harry's blank stare met Draco's statement.

"It means that some people wont see you as a person, just as an object, something to have, and worse something to bind permanently to them. Basically if our bond doesn't get set quickly you could be forced into a bond that hurts you. Magically, physically and possible even sexually."

Harry just sat there. He knew he wasn't normal. He had known that since he was just a kid. He thought though that his days of being kicked around and used were over once he came of age and could leave his relatives, if you could refer to them as that. Now though his choices were being bound forever to Draco or taken as some sort of exotic pet by someone else. Harry could see all of his dreams about living with Pixie and her gang fly straight out the window. The one life he wanted just wouldn't be possible.

"I…" Harry stuttered, "I need to think about this. I'll talk to you…later" and with that he stood up and walked to his room.

**A/N: Its been a while I know! I am back though and (hopefully) won't leave this story for that long again. Thank you for sticking with me and continuing to read this. As always I love to hear your feedback and reviews. Please let me know what you think! Also I will be going back and editing old chapters. There will not be any huge changes, but I just wanted to let you know that will be happening. **


	9. Chapter 8: Collision of Worlds

**Title: Seven of Swords**

**Author: Magpie quill**

**Summary:**** AU. Harry Potter has two lives: 1. The boy who lived and 2. Doitvite, the juggler. He thought that he could keep them apart but when it turns out that he's the mate of a Veela, problems arise. Ignores HBP. slash DMHP, child abuse.**

**Disclaimer: Many characters and places seen here are the property of J. K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Everything that you do not recognize from the Harry Potter books and movies is mine. **

**Warnings: AU, OC, DM/HP, slash, child abuse, complex characters, mild drug/alcohol abuse, Dumbledore bashing**

The rest of the day passed slowly for Draco. Harry had come out of his room only to grab a plate of the dinner that one of the house elves had brought for them. Draco had tried to talk to him but it had little effect. Harry simply brushed Draco off and then returned to his room. With nothing better to do Draco had retreated into his own room to try and figure out the problem that was Harry Potter.

Glancing at the clock on the wall Draco was shocked to see that it was almost one in the morning. It hadn't felt that long. He was also no closer to understanding his mate then he had been the day before. Clearly it was time for Draco to admit defeat for the day and go to bed. He was just about to go and do just that when there was a noise from the common room.

It was small, not even something that Draco would have noticed if it hadn't been the utter silence of night. It was so small in fact that Draco was going to just turn around and continue preparing for bed. When it came for a second time however, Draco paused. Remembering the events of that morning, he decided it would be prudent to, at the very least, go and check that Harry wasn't getting into any trouble.

"Hey, how are you fee-" the words died on his lips as he stepped into the common room. Standing there were three people, none of whom was Harry. In fact looking at them Draco was positive they didn't even attend Hogwarts. Of course that conclusion was fairly obvious considering that all three were pointing, almost casually, guns at his head. Mentally cursing himself for leaving his wand inside by his bed, Draco pasted a bored expression on his face. "Bit late for visitors, don't you agree?" he asked casually, all the while looking them over.

Standing in front of him, not even the least bit disturbed at being caught breaking in, was without a doubt the oddest three people Draco had ever seen. An aging women and two twenty-something year old men was not normal, but it also wasn't so strange as to give him the creeps like he had now. No, the real issue was the way they held themselves. He had seen it once when he was 15 and a group of Death eaters came to the family manor. The "acquaintances" of his fathers had the same air about them as these three: Complete control. Only it was worse. The group in front of him hadn't learned how to bow and scrape, how to say consoling words while stabbing someone in the back. They were dangerous in a way that Draco had never seen before.

"Not really all that late," the taller of the two men drawled in a way that would have impressed even Draco's father. "Where is Harry?" It was then that Draco noticed something: These people had control but there was also the hidden promise of violence that Draco had only seen in his Aunt Bella. The idea was not pretty.

"Joseph, that's enough" the woman snapped. "You were allowed to come on the promise that you would be able to stay calm. Don't let me regret bringing you." For a moment the two intruders locked eyes in a battle of wills. Then the man, Joseph, looked away and stepped back from Draco. Satisfied the woman turned her gaze to Draco.

For the first time Draco really looked at her. Before his attention had been mostly on the men, they seeming to be the most obvious threat. Now though he wasn't sure. The woman was older, maybe fifty; her height was also nothing impressive (Draco guessed that she stood at barely 5' 4"). Even with the small gun pointed at him she shouldn't have been threatening. The woman was not dressed for a fight: a loosed skirt and blouse paired with a warm and clearly worn sweater as well as sensible shoes, she hardly seemed to be a threat and yet this woman scared him more then anyone else with the possible exception of the Dark Lord himself. It was her eyes, Draco decided. They were too sharp, too clear, for a woman her age. Looking at her gave one the feeling that she had seen everything and had survived it simply because she was too stubborn to die.

"Finished?" Her voice cut through his thoughts. Before he could even take a breath to respond though she was continuing on.

"My name is Mrs. Cathleen Dowell, and as Mr. Cero so nicely put it, we are here to see Harry. If you could get him, we would be much obliged." Despite the friendly tone, Draco felt a slight tingle of fear go up his spine.

"I'm sorry, you have the wrong room. Try the Gryffindor tower."

Mrs. Dowell looked him over as if trying to decide if he was worth the bullet that would be needed to kill him. Apparently he wasn't. The small gun Draco had been staring down suddenly disappeared. Both Joseph and the other still unnamed man put away their weapons as well.

"Well, I'm glad to see that Pamela was just over reacting as usual. Sit down and lets have some proper introductions." The woman said briskly as she settled herself into one of the armchairs, the men following her lead and flopping across the couch. Hesitantly Draco walked over to one of the remaining seats and sat down.

"I'm Draco Malfoy. Who exactly are you?"

"Like I said, my name is Cathleen Dowell. The boys are mutual friends of Harry's and mine. Joseph is the tall gangly one who refuses to cut his hair, and Daniel is the animal sitting next to him." Despite the comments, Draco could hear the affection in her voice.

"Mrs. Dowell, we are both big boys and capable of introducing ourselves." Daniel cut in. Turning to Draco he continued, "Call me Daniel and I'll kill you. Its Sal." Draco opened his mouth, and then wisely shut it again. 'Sal' may have been slightly shorter then Joseph, but not by that much. He was also built like an ox: broad shoulders, thick neck, all together he looked as if a hurricane could hit him and he wouldn't even flinch. Before Draco's mind could go much farther along that train of thought Joseph cut him off.

"I'm Joseph Cero and I'm going to tell you what Mrs. Dowell is too polite to say. We don't like you. Most likely were never gonna like you. You are alive because Mrs. Dowell decided that you weren't a threat to either us or to Harry. If that opinion changes for whatever reason we will not hesitate to kill you. Clear?"

Not trusting his voice Draco just nodded.

"Good." Suddenly the killer who was sitting across from him disappeared. In his place was a calm man relaxing in his chair, albeit with a gun in hand. There was no sign that this man had just seconds before threatened to kill a kitten let alone another human being. With a slight nod he turned to Mrs. Dowell "Your show here. What now?"

"When I said we should introduce ourselves I meant more then some threats and your names. Besides the lord knows Harry could use the sleep. We can wait to talk to him." Mrs. Dowell said dismissively, her attention still on Draco. "I'd rather get to know Mr. Malfoy here."

Unconsciously Draco sat up straighter. The woman was like a more terrifying version of Professor McGonagall, and until this minute Draco hadn't thought that was possible.

"I'm sorry, but I still don't really understand who you are or why you're here asking about Harry." Every inch of Draco's well-ingrained self-preservation side was screaming at him for saying anything, however, it was more important though to find out if these people meant any harm to his mate. Still right now, with all three sets of eyes focused on him in a rather unfriendly sort of way, Draco was more then a little nervous.

The odd group exchanged looks. Well, Sal and Joseph exchanged looks; Mrs. Dowell was still staring at Draco. Finally Sal spoke.

"Think of us as representatives for Harry's family. Were just trying to make sure that everything's on the up and up."

Draco just stared blankly at him.

"Sal, go easy on the man. He's a wizard, you know how they get about slang." Said a very familiar voice from somewhere over Draco's shoulder. Instantly everyone was on their feet.

Before Draco could even blink, Harry had been swept up into a huge bear-hug by both Joseph and Sal. The Veela in Draco was about to do something dumb when Mrs. Dowell stepped in.

"Both of you let poor Harry breath. Honestly, you saw him two days ago." She scolded, shooing them away. "Not that it isn't good to see you Harry, but you should be asleep."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead." Said Harry, shrugging Mrs. Dowell off easily. "Now what are you all doing here?" he asked walking over to Draco.


	10. Chapter 9: How the Other Half Lives

It was somewhere between being very late and very early in the slums. At almost 4 the streets were still and the buildings dark. Along Clark Street nothing moved. Despite the stillness there was a certain amount of tension hanging over the whole area. There was something large happening, all though what remained to be seen. Despite the tense night, there was one building that was fully lit. One of the newer centers of power in the neighborhood had light shining out from the foggy windows and under the door. Inside the Hanged Man an impromptu meeting was taking place.

"Pamela, You know I wouldn't say this lightly, but he seems ok." The words were spoken by the elderly Cathleen Dowell. Of all the people crowded into the room, she was the only one who seemed perfectly relaxed. Everyone else was clearly on edge. They were waiting, all though for what hadn't been made clear yet. The focus was on the purple haired woman sitting at the bar with a too full glass of whiskey.

"He seemed ok this summer and look at how that turned out." The woman spit out. The couple dozen people or so winced at that. There was no denying this summer had been hard on everyone, but unsurprisingly Pixie had been dealing the worse. Hell, even Harry was dealing better. At one of the tables in the corner Sal and Jo exchanged looks. After a second, Sal stood up and walked over to the woman.

Carefully he draped an arm over her shoulder "This summer was bad, but this kid, Draco or whatever, he's not a threat." Rather then reassuring her it seemed to make things worse.

"Not a threat? He's a teenage death eater who just got a new toy. Yeah no, god damn threat!" The last word was punctuated with the crash of the whiskey glass against the wall.

The room stood eerily silent for a minute, all eyes were focused on the broken shards of glass. Finally Pixie broke the silence.

"Shit." With that she collapsed back into her stool. Sal took a place next to her.

"You know you will have to replace that." Pixie looked up.

"I know Andre." You could almost hear the eye-roll in her tone. The middle-aged man shook his head softly and put down the block of wood he had been nervously carving.

"I think," he said softly, with only the slightest trace of his Italian accent "that we should think about this more calmly. And possible with clearer heads." motioning toward the broken glass. Both Sal and Joe looked guiltily at their beers but didn't say or do anything.

"Now, would someone explain to me what precisely is going on with this so called bond? I'm afraid I don't have quite the grasp on this that others do." His tone was so mild mannered it was hard to remember why anyone was mad in the first place. He may not have been one of the great power brokers among these people, but he had respect enough and that was what was called for. Quietly the assembled settled into chairs and turned to look at the woman hanging in the back.

"Why you all lookin' at me?" The words held little bite and were spoken with a thick Somalian accent. The speaker was a beautiful older African woman who clearly commanded respect among the room. Like all members of this group she had a hard face, and eyes that had clearly seen too much in their lifetime.

"Aziza, if you wouldn't mind sharing. I believe you are the best informed on this subject." Andre said calmly, with the small bow that comes only from worldly Italian men.

The woman surveyed her audience for a second before taking a seat provided for her.

"Very well. We will talk about the old magic. Then, we talk about more important issues. The world isn't sittin' still because our Doite-Vite got himself into trouble. _Again_." The room shifted awkwardly. It was true. The situation with Harry may be serious, but there were things going on in the slums that couldn't be ignored.

"You said that the Veela is claiming that Harry is a perfect mate?" Aziza asked, looking at Jo. The man gave a single nod.

"Huh. Wizards. Dere ain't no perfect mates. All Dere is, is magic. Some people got more, some less. And it's all different. Jay, go get me a drink." She said all of this almost completely to herself while rolling a cigarette. Everyone knew, however, that Aziza was talking to all of them. She was a storyteller at heart and it was all part of her show. She owned a magical supply shop and in the slums was one of the experts on magical practices of all sorts, especially those that were ancient and powerful. She was also terse, hard to read, and as sharp as a tack. Once her drink came and her cigarette lit she turned to her audience.

"Magic ain't one thing. Each person is different, it need different dings. Wizards: Dey want to make rules. Dey want dis magic too make sense. It doesn't. In any case, wizards have a story about de perfect mate. Dey say dat the perfect mate can be bound do any one. Dat a perfect mate can be enslaved. What dere talkin' 'bout is the magic of individuals. Magic that calls."

"I'll kill anyone who try's to enslave Harry." The words were spoken softly with absolutely no emotion. No one in the room doubted pixies intent. Aziza however just gave the younger woman a look.

"Sit down child. You don't even know what you're fighting yet." When she was sure that Pixie wasn't going to burst out again she took a long drag on her cigarette and continued.

"Harry's magic is sensitive. It's like his heart. Harry wants love, so his magic wants love. More love den we all can give." She surveyed the small crowd to make sure that her words were getting through. "Dat perfect mate; dat ain't real. All dere is is magic. Harry's needs more power to dake care of dat boy, to keep him safe. So it calls. It calls to whoever has the power, no matter who's got it. And it will bind. One way or another dat magic is gonna give it self up. Doit-vite won't survive without it."

The room sat silent for a minute. Then Pixie got up.

"That's it. I knew this was a mistake. I'm bringing him home."

Softly Aziza called after her "It ain't gonna help anything child." Pixie stopped, her back still to the room. Aziza continued, "It's magic girlie. It wants dat bond. You try and stop dat now, and you're in for a world of trouble."

"He's my brother in every way that counts. I'm not leaving him with those bastards."

Aziza gave her a long look. Since Pixie had come here Aziza had watched out for her, in her own backhanded way. She knew Pixie. She also knew the guilt that the young purple haired woman carried around with her.

"Oh child," the older woman sighed "you can't help him. You got a place here, and you know as well as I dat Vite's path don't lie in this house. You gotta let him go." She smiled softly "Besides dat veela, he gonna be even more protective den you."

"You've seen something?" The question held just the smallest bit of hope.

"I've seen what I've seen. You gotta let go now."

For a moment Pixie looked at the door considering. Finally she went back to her seat and Sal and poured herself another drink.

"Ok. We watch him though." The last comment was directed at Jo, still nursing his beer in the corner.

"I'll put some people on him." He said shortly.

Quietly the Older Italian interjected "Aziza, what does this mean? Exactly."

Aziza gave a hard smile. "It means dat Vite's magic will bind itself. He's too powerful and don't got enough training to stay on his own. Even if he got trained his magic would still look for a protector after what dat bastard did. At the moment, it sees the Veela as its best bet. But if dey don't bind his magic it'll find someone else. And I'd bet you my hand it won't be anyone good."

There was little anyone could say after that. At the bar Pixie clutched her glass, as if the amber liquid would save her. At her side Sal stood, trying to guard her from the world. Off in his own place Andre had picked up the block of wood again, trying to see the image that moments ago had seemed so beautiful. As for the rest of the motley clan, each was lost in their own thoughts about one of their own.

They all may have stood like this longer if Cathleen Dowell had not quietly stepped forward from her place to the side. "Pamela, we're not done yet. When your ready there are other matters to discuss."

Pixie nodded. While her family business may have taken up most of the night so far, there were other matters to attend too, ones that (at least to the rest of the dozen or so people gathered) were more pressing.

"Right." She said, any of the sad softness wiped from her voice. "Jay, what can you tell us?"

The tall baby-faced man that had been hovering behind Aziza cleared his throat, straightened his tie, and stepped into the center of the room. For a moment his pale eyes observed the eclectic group in front of him. Then he opened up his battered briefcase, pulled out some old, grimy papers and began.


	11. Chapter 10: Memories

Cathleen Dowell couldn't sleep. It wasn't an uncommon problem with her, but usually a quick cup of Aziza's tea would fix the issue. Tonight however their was simply too much going on. It had been a long night, to Scotland and back in one night, and then the council. Well, not a council. That sounded to official for what the meeting was. A family gathering then; to discuss family business. This week was starting off hard and it didn't look like it was going to get any easier. If it was only this problem with Harry she would be ok, but with everything together it was too much. And of course, despite everything else, Harry _was_ the problem she cared most about. True it was her job to make Miss Pamela focus beyond her gut instinct of protecting Harry but the truth was that looking back on her night, she was worried.

Harry had looked like shit. Generally speaking Mrs. Dowell didn't hold with language like that, but really, shit was the only way to describe how he looked. Of course, everyone knew that Harry had had a bad summer. She even knew the details. Quite frankly Mrs. Dowell was surprised that Harry had even come back this year. Pamela had been quite insistent that he not return. Where any one else would have bent to that girls will, however, Harry simply narrowed his eyes and told her to but out. But then that was what life was like with those two. Mrs. Dowell was actually quite happy with herself on how she had handled this particular situation. Pamela had been ready to fly off the handle and kill this boy standing next to Harry. It had taken a lot of screaming and locking Pamela in the back room to finally get her to see reason. So there she had been. Harry looked like shit and had just fallen into defense mode.

_Flashback_

"You know perfectly well what were doing here Harry. Don't be obtuse, it's not becoming." A slight scold, just enough to set the tone. Her eyes however were still on the boy, Draco. She had heard about the Malfoy's of course. You couldn't live where she did and not. However, at the moment she wasn't interested in the rumors. They were only good three-quarters of the time, which simply wasn't good enough when it came to protecting Harry.

"Mrs. Dowell, please stop that." Harry's voice cut through her thoughts. She didn't bother insulting his intelligence by asking _'stop what?'_ they both knew what she was up too. Behind her she could hear the boys smirking.

"Well, as lovely as this is, lets sit. I imagine we have quite a bit to talk about." She said gesturing to the sitting room area. Daniel and Joseph immediately flopped down onto the couch. Draco too moved to sit on one of the armchairs. Harry however stood standing.

"What did Pix say?" He was staring dead at her daring her to lie.

Mrs. Dowell raised an eyebrow at him. She had met all types of children and Harry was nowhere near the worst.

"Stop being rude and sit down." She waited till he finally complied and then continued on. "This conversation is not going to be about Pamela. It's about you and that boy."

"She freaked didn't she?"

Mrs. Dowell snorted. "Of course she did. But for the moment she is content to let me come and deal with this situation as I see fit. Now before anything else, what did you do to your arm?"

Harry looked down. Quite frankly he had completely forgotten about it. Joseph and Sal had also just noticed it and were instantly on their feet.

"You fucker, what did you do?" Joseph yelled at Draco, one hand already grabbing the front of his shirt.

"Jo, get off of him, he didn't do anything!" Harry yelled, trying his best to stand between the three men, "It was just a dumb mistake on my part. Stop!" Throughout the chaos Mrs. Dowell just watched. At some point they would really have to talk with the youngest Malfoy. She knew it had been a bad idea to bring Joseph and Daniel. Really, they were just as bad as Pamela was.

"Joseph, you will not use that language again anywhere I may possibly here it. Are we clear?" While her voice remained soft, the tone was steely. There would be no more disruptions on the part of any of her boys. Slowly Joseph and "Sal" backed down, their eyes still suspicious. The Malfoy child watched them carefully, not missing a detail. Mrs. Dowell noticed that one of the Veela's hands was gripping Harry's shoulder. She wasn't sure what the intention had been but it was an interesting thing to note. Looking at each of the young men in turn she said,

"You will all sit down and behave like you were raised properly. There will be absolutely no more of this sort of behavior." When they had all returned to their seats she continued, "Now, Harry, what did you do to your arm?"

Harry looked down and muttered something under his breath. Mrs. Dowell raised a single eyebrow at him.

"I said, I was trying to get out of the room and a spell I threw backfired." For good measure he added defiantly "Draco had nothing to do with it."

"I'm sure he didn't." Mrs. Dowell replied, "However, in the future do try to avoid loosing your temper at inanimate objects. It will do you nothing but harm. Did you take care of it properly?"

Harry just rolled his eyes at her. For a moment Cathleen Dowell thought about responding to the irritating gesture but decided against it. Instead she continued on with what she had come here to do.

"Harry," She said, "I'm sure you have questions but you do need to sleep. Why don't you and the boys go talk over Pamela's, shall we say, colorful reaction while Draco and I talk?" Though she phrased it as a question everyone in the room knew that it was anything but. Harry might have tried to object, but as she expected, he was in no state to put up the fight.

"Don't hurt him," He said, only half in jest, "Jo, Sal, come on you can give me all the horrible details." With one last glare at Draco, the two men followed Harry into his room. Draco's eyes watched them sharply. Clearly the veela was not happy about letting his mate go off with two strangers.

"Stop that immediately," Mrs. Dowell told him "Both Mr. Cero and Mr. Lest would die rather then let Harry get hurt, and not just because Pamela would tear them limb to limb if they didn't."

"And just who is Pamela, Mrs. Dowell?" The veela asked. Mrs. Dowell was impressed. Most people when faced with this group would have been cowed, not Draco Malfoy however. If nothing else, the boy had guts. Still no need for him to get the wrong impression.

"If Harry has not told you about his relationship with Pamela, then I see no reason to do so. As I said earlier, this is not about her, it is about you."

If Draco was put out, he didn't show it. With delightful nonchalance he leaned back into his seat and let a small smirk grace his lips "Well then, what do you want to know?"

Well, if that was the way he wanted to play then so be it. In her most proper English way she asked, "You are claiming Harry as your mate, correct?"

The veela just gave a small smile and nod, still at apparent ease.

"And you say you are willing to protect him from all enemies?"

Again he just smiled.

"Your father is Lucius Malfoy?"

He nodded again.

"And your father, and the better part of you living family, serves the man who has been trying to kill Harry for the majority of his life?"

His eyes hardened but he kept the same light tone, "that's what the rumor mill says, no proof so far though."

Quicker then he could blink, Mrs. Dowell was directly in front of the chair in which the veela sat. "If I were you Mr. Malfoy, I would take my questions more seriously. If for even a second I think that you are not to be trusted I will end this matter and it will not be pretty for you." Her eyes were deadly. This was not a time for games. Harry was a boy she considered to be like a son and she would not stand for anything less then the best for him.

The Veela however just glared right back. Slowly he stood and looked her directly in the eye. "I'll say this once more Mrs. Dowell, I don't know who you are and I don't know what your after, but I will never do anything to hurt Harry. I am perfectly serious." For a second the two of them stood like that face-to-face, then Mrs. Dowell threw her silver hair back and laughed.

"I like you young Malfoy. Maybe you will be good for Harry after all." She said when she caught her breath. From somewhere a clock struck three, causing Mrs. Dowell's face to go serious again. "Well, its time for us to go." She said, "I will gather my companions and we will be on are way." She turned toward Harry's door, before looking back, "And Mr. Malfoy? We'll be watching."

_End Flashback_

The teakettle boiled bringing Mrs. Dowell back into the present. There was no denying that she liked the boy. But he was an outsider. Not just any outsider at that. And this summer had been so hard. Harry needed things simpler. They all did. But then since when had God paid attention to what they needed. Shaking away that last blasphemous thought, Mrs. Dowell went to make herself another cup of Aziza's special tea. Tomorrow would be another long day, and she needed to be well rested.


End file.
